Delirious
by Bassair
Summary: Ward takes a bullet for Skye. He realises his feelings for her.


It'd been one of _those_ missions, the kind where nothing had gone right. Skye'd gone in undercover as a rich daughter of some kind of fancy English _thing_ and Grant had been her bodyguard. It'd started off okay, Skye in her dress that he couldn't quite stop looking at the line of, and Ward in his suit, useful tech concealed under his jacket and in the lining of his pockets, designed by Fitzsimmons to be undetectable.

And then a few of the other guests at the stupid fancy party had shown interest in Skye. They'd started talking to her and there were only so many vague answers one could give before a cover like that was blown.

One minute they were talking and the next there was one gun on Skye and another on Grant.

"I thought weapons weren't allowed in," Skye said with a flirty smile. "So I'm guessing you're just pleased to see me."

Grant resisted the urge to growl her name and then walked by her side as they were escorted out the back of the building. The guns and the fact they'd been made as S.H.I.E.L.D. agents meant he was pretty sure he knew where this was going, so he took the opportunity to start gasping.

"He has asthma!" Skye exclaimed and he was allowed - simply because his gasping was _annoying_ - to grab his inhaler. A few uses and a beacon went off, informing May that they needed to be extracted five minutes ago.

Once they were outside he had a plan if May wasn't there, but within seconds May was rushing around the corner, so Ward put an arm around Skye and herded her behind a dumpster, catching a gun May tossed at him and then hurrying out to fight off the large number of guys who wanted him _dead_.

"Ward!" Skye shouted and he turned in time to see one of the goons raise a gun, aiming it at Skye. He bit down on every noise that threatened to bubble out of him and launched forwards, the bullet hitting his abdomen as he fell in front of her.

Her eyes widened and she was at his side in a moment, even as May finished off the rest of the bad guys. "Ward! Ward," she breathed, hands on his wound as she tried to keep pressure on the bleeding. "Grant!"

He peered up at her, thinking about all the times he'd been shot before and how few people had ever shown any care about it, and how she'd done this three times now, once when a bullet had grazed him in Peru, once after he got shot on that roof and now... now she was the one solely responsible for holding his guts in while May called for help.

And he _trusted her_. He trusted her not to let go, not to get bored or run away, he trusted her to keep her hands firmly on the wound, no matter how much it hurt him, and he trusted her to not let him die in a damn alleyway behind a shitty hotel because she was _Skye_ and when she put her mind to something... there was nothing anyone could do to convince her that her goal was unreachable.

Luckily, in this case, he was pretty sure the _not letting Ward die_ goal was very much reachable. Or would be if Simmons would just hurry up.

"Hey, stay with me," Skye murmured, hands pressing part of her dress to his wound. "Stay with me, Grant, don't go."

He wondered why she was saying that, so he opened his eyes again and watched her. He knew what he was feeling was shock and adrenaline, and that he'd lost at least a litre of blood already, but all he could think about was how pretty her eyes were and how nice it was that she was touching him, even if the circumstances _did_ suck a bit.

"Y'eyes are really pretty," he slurred.

"Oh, you choose now to compliment me," she whimpered. "I don't have my phone! I can't record it for posterity!"

He chuckled, which hurt like crazy, and smiled at her absently. "Should compliment you more..." he mumbled. "They always say y'should... should compliment the woman you love..."

"...did they hit you with some kind of psychotic poison?" Skye said. "Because I'm pretty sure you're talking crazy."

"'m not," he whined at her. "Trust you..."

"Trust isn't love, Grant," Skye said, watching him, her eyes never leaving his, even as she readjusted her grip and pressure on his wound.

"Is," he murmured, smiling at her sleepily. "Is to me." He closed his eyes again, eyelids too heavy to keep open.

"Grant," Skye said. "_Grant_, you can't say something like that and not stick around for me to mock you about it! Grant! Grant! _Ward!_"

When he opened his eyes again it was to the same voice, but softer and less desperate now. "Grant?"

He blinked a few times at the white of the S.H.I.E.L.D. hospital and then looked across at her. "So," she said. "Do you remember anything or should we just gloss right onwards to you getting better?"

A few more blinks and he licked his lips as he remembered everything.

"I love you," he breathed, shocking himself most of all.

"...maybe there was more brain damage than we thought, let's go check that out, Fitz," said Simmons' voice.

Skye shot her a glare across Grant and he turned his head to see that Fitzsimmons, Coulson _and_ May were all in the room too. They hurried out within seconds and he looked back at Skye.

"You can take back your bullet-induced delusion any time you like," she offered awkwardly, swinging her arms.

He reached out, the plastic on his finger catching against her bracelet before he got a grip on her hand. "I love you," he repeated.

She licked her lips and met his eyes. "Tell me that when you're off the painkillers," she said softly and lifted his hand, kissing his palm, "and then we'll talk."

He smiled in exhaustion and let sleep reclaim him, her hand wrapped gently around his.


End file.
